


The Doss House

by anwise_gamgee



Category: Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: 1930s, Alternate Universe, Historical, M/M, World War II
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-17
Updated: 2014-10-17
Packaged: 2018-02-21 12:46:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 13,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2468672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anwise_gamgee/pseuds/anwise_gamgee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>London, 1930s. After the society he works for goes bankrupt, Sean Astin find himself alone and out of money. Sleeping in a doss-house, he meets a street boy that will help him through that difficult time. Or will he?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Once again, an old work of mine.

There were so many men in the doss-house that Elijah did not find his assigned bed right away. His pack on his shoulder, he walked slowly among the snoring men to his bed and sat on it with a heavy sigh.  
It had been a long night for him, and it was a relief to be able to sleep on a real bed for an hour or two.  
He looked around him. The general desperation was strikingly saddening, even for him, a street-boy who was used to it. The dormitory was packed with the poorest people of London, the ones that accepted to give away a few of their rare pennies against a shower and a night's rest.  
Elijah was one of them.

But the man that entered the room just a few minutes later was not. He was wearing a fashionable suit, his suitcase was not worn yet, and the stubble on his cheeks proved that he must have shaved only a couple of days before.

He cast a worried glance around, then spotted his bed and slowly walked to it, inspecting it with a doubtful air on his face.

Elijah had already seen one or two others like him, a great society in London had gone bankrupt two weeks before, and some of the business men had lost everything. It seemed that this one was no exception.

Without realizing it, Elijah had been observing the man for a few minutes now, and he noticed it. He straightened his back as he was putting on his nightclothes – something the “regulars” never did – all the while trying to save his dignity and modesty.  
This was new to Elijah, and he laughed. The stranger shot a glance in his direction, looking both hurt and ashamed. The boy wanted to apologize, but he had drawn some of the others' attention to the man and they laughed too.  
The stranger looked embarrassed but said nothing, he slipped under the rough blanket, trying to ignore the hard mattress under his back and, his suitcase safely under his arm, he closed his eyes.

'Nobody's going t' rob ye, ye know,' Elijah said from his bed. 

The man ignored him, so Elijah went to him. 

'Hey, sir, I'm talking t' ye.'  
'Please, I'm just trying to sleep.'  
'I woz asleep too!' came a voice from a bed nearby.

'Shut up!' Elijah said, and no one replied. 'Listen, ye don't seem to be erm... one of us. Am I right?'

The man sat up in his bed, and found himself face to face with the young man.  
'Please,' he whispered, 'I really, really want to sleep. I don't have much to give you.'  
'Do I look like a beggar, sir?'  
'Well, I thought...'  
'I jus' wanna help ye, if I can.'  
'And why would you do that?'  
'Dunno.'  
'Hey, if ye fellers wanna talk, get out!' grumbled another voice.

Elijah smiled at that and said:

'Well, I'll see ye in the morn', then. Oh, by the way, I'm Elijah,' he added offering his hand.  
'I'm... Sean,' answered the man, shaking the hand Elijah gave him.  
'G' night, then, mister Sean.'

There was a slightly mocking note in Elijah's voice, but no nastiness. He went back to his bed and slipped under the blanket. 

***

The next morning, that is only a few hours of uncomfortable sleep later, Sean was roused by the noises of the men around and a grumbling belly. He had not had a proper meal since the morning before, and he had tried to ignore his hunger, but now it seemed that his belly would never stop growling. He got up and got dressed, wishing he could wash a bit, but the perspective of showering in front of all those destitute people, and even worse, to share the collective bathroom with them, was not alluring to Sean at all. It was not that he was a snob and despised them for being poor – he himself had come from a poor family – but he had always been very modest and a stickler for hygiene. He had forgotten all about the young man's offer to help him, and when Elijah came back to him that morning he wondered what that boy wanted.

'Hey, mister Sean,' said the lad with a mischievous smile, 'you forgotten me, have you?' 

Sean, who was also a stickler for good English grammar, did not understand right way. Then he looked at Elijah with doubtful eyes.

'Good morning, er...'  
'Elijah.'  
'Yes, I'm sorry Elijah, but I really have to go.'  
'Where to?'  
'I don't think it's any of your business.'  
'Ok. Ye hungry? I'm starving, wanna know where ye can eat for free?'  
'Well, I guess that's an offer I can't refuse.'  
'C'm on then.' 

And, his pack on his shoulder, Elijah went out of the room and out of the house, Sean following close behind, his suitcase in his hand.

'May I know where you intend to find food for free?'  
'Ahah, surprise, mister Sean. Let's say I gat a friend or two.' he answered as they walked along the paved streets. 'So, how did ye end up sleeping at our dear doss-house?'

The young man had asked that question quite simply, and Sean felt that he could answer without feeling ashamed. This boy must have been through a lot of nasty things himself, he would never judge Sean for his bad fortune. Or so Sean felt.

'Well, I suppose you've heard about the...'  
'Yeah, that erm... big crisis,right?' interrupted Elijah.  
'Yes,' said Sean with a light cough (for he was also a stickler for good manners), 'well, as you can easily imagine, I was an employee in one big society and...'  
'They threw ye out,' Elijah said simply.  
'Indeed. First I thought I could subside on my wife's savings. She's from a very wealthy family you see, but she has spent pretty much of our money buying fancy things for the kids. When I got fired she went back to her parents with the children, and here I am.'  
'Why don't ye live with her at her parents?'  
'They've always despised me. I come from a poor family, I worked very hard to become who I am but they never approved of my marrying their daughter. This was just the occasion to get rid of me I guess. My wife asked for a divorce and...'

Sean found it hard to speak. His life had changed so quickly that he had had no time to mourn over it. But now he had found someone who wanted to know about his story, and who seemed to really care about what he said.

'Wow,' Elijah said, 'and so ye have kids? Ye can't see them no more, then?'  
'I don't know. I don't think that I could see them if I live on the street and eat from the garbage.'

Sean felt sobs rising in his throat, but he swallowed them back. He did not want the young man to think him a whine.

'And yer kids, how are they?'  
'Ah,' he said with a faint smile, 'they're wonderful. Three little girls, beautiful and clever. Their mother spoiled them, but I like to think they kept in mind the principles I tried to teach them.'  
'Comes from being the poor guy, right? Well, I don't wanna be mean, but living with loaded grandpa and grandma won't help yer life-principles.'  
'I know, but...'  
'Ah! Here we are!' interrupted Elijah, making excited gestures. 'C'm on!' 

They were on the market place, the crowd reunited there made Sean feel dizzy. Elijah grabbed his hand and led them to a stall where three men were selling vegetables, dried meats and some things that Sean thought must have been stolen, but he said nothing.

'Hey, Dom, Billy,' Elijah said to the two young men who seemed to be employees for the third man. 'G' morning!'  
'Hey, Lij'!' exclaimed the one with a strong Scottish accent.  
'G' morning Elijah,' said the older man with a smile.  
'Morning to ye mister Ian,' the young man replied. 

“Mister Ian” was a short smiling man with short curly white hair and a round face. The two boys who accompanied him where a little taller, one with blond hair and blue eyes and the other with auburn hair and green eyes. The three of them plus Elijah formed a funny group, and Sean suddenly felt out of place.

'My good sirs,' Elijah said with a graceful bow, 'this is Sean, my new friend. He's starving, and so am I.'

*** 

A few slices of dried beef later, Sean had discovered who was Billy, who was Dom, how they knew young Elijah, and a lot of things about people he had never heard of. Billy, the auburn-haired Scotsman, was really chatty and it was hard to stop him once he had started to talk. Sean found great comfort in their company, and for a short while he almost forgot about his own troubles.

'Thank you very much for the meal,' Sean said at some point. 'I think I have a few pennies left' he added rummaging through his pockets. 'Here.'  
'Oh, no no no,' Dom said, 'it's on us. We're in debt with pretty Elijah here, and he invited ye if I'm not mistaken.'

Sean did not insist, but he cast a doubtful glance at “pretty Elijah”. The nickname was well-chosen, and Sean realized he had not really observed his young guide until then. He was slim, as any street-boy was, his skin was pale and his auburn hair was tousled but looked soft. But the most striking feature of his pretty face (for pretty it was) was the pair of too large blue eyes that looked at him with a mix of cleverness and innocence.

'Thank you, then,' he said.  
'Ah, no problem,' Billy added giving Elijah a friendly pat on the shoulder. 'I still dunno how he does that, but Lij' has a few friends among the policemen, and it can be quite useful sometimes.'  
'Really?' Sean asked.  
'Oh, 'tis not much,' Elijah said, and he avoided Sean's gaze, blushing ever so slightly. 

This sudden shyness had the man wondering, but he said nothing.  
After a while, Elijah and Sean parted with the three other men and left the market place.

'So, ye said ye had important things t' do. Ye had t' go somewhere.'  
'Oh, well, yes. I need to try and find a new job.'  
'O' course, what kind?'  
'I don't think I can afford to be fussy about it, so I'll take pretty anything. As long as it's legal.'  
'I can't help you then,' smiled the boy. 'I wish ye good luck, mister Sean, and I hope I won't ever see ye again at the doss-house.'

His tone was serious, and Sean understood what he meant by that. He smiled in return and with a last wave of the hand, they parted.

 


	2. Chapter 2

As the city was slowly waking up for another foggy day, Elijah was slipping once more under the rough blanket of one of the beds of his usual shelter. The other men were starting to rise, and some of them muttered under their breaths as they passed near the boy. Elijah ignored them and closed his eyes.

When he opened them again a few hours later, it was only to hear Pete, one of the accustomed drunkards, calling him from across the room:  
'Hey, Sleepin' Beauty! There's one fer ye here!'  
'Shut up, Pete!' Elijah said, trying to hide under the cover.  
'I'm sorry to wake you,' came a softer voice.

Elijah emerged from under the blanket and found himself looking into a pair of sweet hazel eyes.

'Sean, is it?' he asked.  
'Forgot me?'  
'Now, I just... Wot are ye doing here?'  
'I owe you a meal, remember?'

As if in response, Elijah's stomach growled loudly and they both laughed.

'I think that meant yes, then.'

And, just like a few months ago – for months had passed since they had met – they went to the market, to mister Ian's stall, but this time Sean paid for Elijah's food.

'I thought we would never see ye again,' Ian said. 'and now ye have money to buy yer own food! Good fer ye, then!'  
'Shut it, mister Ian,' Billy said with a smile, 'he's still one of us, ain't ye Sean?'

Sean did not reply but smiled. They spent a while just standing there, chewing on their meat and talking merrily. Then, once again, they parted from Billy, Dom and Ian, but Sean did not left Elijah this time. They kept on talking and walking for a while. That's how Elijah discovered that Sean had found a job in a bookshop and was now living in a tiny flat just a few streets away from the market place.

'Ye lucky, ye know? I wish I knew how t' read, I could find a job just like ye,' Elijah said with a distant look on his face.  
'I could teach you,' Sean answered simply.  
'Now, t' would be useless, ye'd loose yer time.'  
'I'm sure you'd learn very quickly.'

When Elijah did not answer Sean hesitated and then asked:

'What do you do, I mean... how do you survive on the streets?'  
'Oh, I... I try to be useful to people, and they help me in return.'  
'Ah, yeah, the policemen.'

Elijah cast his eyes down and did not answer.

***

'So this is it,' Elijah said with a small smile, 'you're a divorced man. Write it to me.'  
'What?'  
'Divorce, I wanna know what it looks like.'

Sean thought the request to be a strange one, but he wrote the word carefully on a sheet of paper, then put it in front of Elijah.

They were both sitting at the small table of Sean's small flat, under the roof of a five-floored building. They had started the writing and reading lessons the day following their second meeting. After Sean had finished his work Elijah had joined him in front of the book store and they both went to Sean's place, all the while talking like old friends do.

'Ok, so what's that letter here?' Elijah asked pointing to the D.  
Sean told him, then he did the same for all the letters of the word.  
'I think we'll start we the alphabet, that'll be simpler.'  
'Ok,' Elijah answered and looked at Sean with expecting eyes, eager to learn from the other man.

That made Sean laugh.

'Wot?'  
'Oh, it's just... that's silly, but you remind me of my eldest daughter, Ali.'  
'Do I? I guess that's a compliment, then. Thanks.'  
'I wish you could meet my girls some day, I'm sure they'd adore you.'  
'Now, ye're just bein' nice,' Elijah said with a faint blush.  
'No, I assure you. But I don't think my ex-wife would approve of their pretty princesses getting acquainted to...'  
'To some dirty illiterate street-boy,' Elijah finished.  
'That's not... Well, you know the word “illiterate”, so I guess you're not that hopeless.

The boy laughed.

'So ye can see yer girls now?'  
'Yeah, I go and visit them twice a week, I think I should consider myself lucky, given the situation.'  
'Well, that's still somewhat unfair.'

They went on with the divorce topic for a while when Sean remembered Elijah was there to learn a thing or two before the end of their meeting, so they went back to the alphabet. The man wrote down the twenty-six letters carefully, both in capital and small letters. He then told the boy what each one was and how to pronounce it, and the attentive student repeated after him.

They were so engrossed in the process that it was Elijah's growling stomach that reminded them time was up.

'I should go,' the boy said.  
'Maybe you could at least have a bite to eat before.'  
'I don't think I'll ever be able to repay ye any of this, so I'd rather ye keep yer food t' yerself.'

Sean did not reply, he had learned enough about Elijah to know there was no point arguing.

The reading and writing lessons went on at a quiet pace, Elijah went to Sean's flat everyday after Sean's work, except the days he went to dine with his ex-wife and see his daughters. Those nights always seemed long to Elijah, especially since it gave him more time for his usual business. It sometimes led him to hang around in the upper streets of the city, the streets he never went to during the day. The streets that had no room for people like him. The streets Sean walked down to go back home after his weekly visits to his daughters.

He did not recognize the voice right away. It had been a very pleasant evening, the food had been delightful and his girls – who were growing up way too fast for his likings – had made him a delicious pie. His heart was warmed up with the thought of the love they still had for him, even when they were forced to live apart.

So, that was lost in such thoughts that Sean turned a corner of the lamp-lit street and caught a glimpse of a policeman talking to another person. He could not see very well from where he was, and at first he did not give it much thought, but a word caught his attention and he hid in the opening of an alley.

'C'm on, Pretty Face. We had an arrangement, right? As long as ye live out on the street, if ye don't wanna have problems ye gotta do what we tell.'  
'I couldn't, a'right? It's been three in just one night!'

Sean recognized the voice and he froze.

'Ye gonna take all we give ye, ye gotta do them all, understand?'  
'How much do they pay ye t' find poor fellers to fuck?'  
'None of yer business. Ye do as ye're told or somethin' bad might happen to yer friends at the market. Ye know that, don't ye? Ye even get a penny or two outta it, I shouldn't complaint if I was ye.'

And without another word, the policeman strode along, leaving the shivering form of what Sean knew to be Elijah standing on the pavement.

***

The boy turned his head and saw a man coming down the street, the light of the street-lamps were in his back and Elijah could only see a vague moving figure. But when he was close enough, he recognized him.

'Mister Sean? Wot are ye doin' here?'  
'I went to see my daughters,' replied Sean, feigning to have heard nothing of the previous conversation. 'Want me to walk you home?'  
'Home? If that's a joke, that's not a real good one.'  
'Well, then let's go to my place. I'll make tea.'

Elijah was too exhausted to refuse, and they walked together along the dark streets of London.

Half way through their first cup of tea, Sean had already told Elijah everything about his pretty girls, the things they had said to him, how fast they were growing up, and how eager he was to go and see them again. The boy said nothing but listened with an honest smile on his face, feeling real sympathy for that man who had lost so much and was still trying to take the bright side of things.  
He noticed that Sean eyed him strangely, though. Elijah wondered why he acted so curious all of a sudden. That's when he realized Sean had appeared just after the cop had left. He must have heard, Elijah thought, but why was he not mentioning it? Why had he invited him to come? He must be disgusted to have a whore in his home, and to think that he had wished for Elijah to meet his daughters! But no, Sean was showing nothing of what he knew.  
They kept on sipping from their cups and talking of a lots of things: there were books Sean wanted Elijah to read when he could do it properly.

The evening, or rather the night, went on pleasantly enough, or so Sean thought, even though what he had heard had upset him. To know that Elijah was to go back to God-knows-where in the cold streets or the dirty doss-house was painful to him. So – as the boy rose from his chair to leave – it seemed the most natural thing for Sean to say:

'You don't have to go.'

Elijah looked up.

'I mean... Maybe... You don't have to go out there in the cold,' stammered Sean. 'It's too late now, and well... I know you're used to it... but I thought, maybe...'  
'A'right,' came the soft reply.  
'Good,' Sean said, surprised that it had been so easy.

A shadow passed on Elijah's face, and, slowly, he took his coat off, his jumper, and his shirt. As his fingers trembled over the buttons of his trousers, Sean made a strangled noise. Elijah's head snapped back up: shame was written all over his face.

'I thought ye wouldn't ask me. I... I thought ye was different.'  
'But I never asked you anything!' Sean cried in an unusually high voice.  
'Then why...'  
'I heard the cop, all right. But I'd never do that! How could you think I would...'  
'I'm sorry,' Elijah said, and his voice broke.

And for the first time since that day they had met, back at the doss-house, Sean saw the boy as he was: a fragile, helpless young man, cast too early into the hard world of the street. As he burst into tears, Sean could not help but gather him in his arms and try to soothe him.  
Elijah's first reaction was to push him away, but Sean held fast, and he relaxed in the warm embrace, letting the tears flow down freely on his pale cheeks.

'It's all right Elijah, it's all right. You'll stay with me, okay? I heard what he said, I won't have you on the street until we've found a solution.'

The young man did not answer but held Sean more tightly as he stroked his back.

'Hush, I'm here, no one will ever touch you again, I promise.'

Sean led Elijah to the small tub – so small that you could not stretch your legs when you sat – which was hidden behind a wooden screen. To fill it, Sean used a rubber pipe that he connected to the tap of the sink in the kitchenette. Drying his eyes with the back of his hand, Elijah smiled through his tears and said:

'That's a very clever system, for a bourgeois...'

Sean laughed and Elijah's red-eyed smile warmed up the room. Without thinking, and as if it was the most natural thing in the world, Sean leant in and, a laugh vibrating deep in his throat, kissed Elijah on the cheek.

'I... I'm sorry, I shouldn't have...' he said, realizing what he had done was out of place.  
'No, that's all right,' Elijah said, taking the man's hand. 'Thank ye fer everythin', Sean.'

The bath was drawn, and Elijah took off the rest of his clothes, under the protective gaze of Sean who tried not to make a fuss when he saw the scars and bruises that marred the young man's skin. Elijah entered the warm water, closing his eyes and sighing in bliss.  
The older man picked up the discarded clothes and, sitting at the table, he said:

'I've got to do something about those. I'm sorry to say this, but your rags do smell like horse-shit.'

The only response he got was a splash of water and a clear, bright laugh coming from behind the screen.

 


	3. Chapter 3

'I really don't wanna disturb ye,' Elijah said as he was drying his hair with a towel. 'I can sleep on the floor, it won't be a problem.'  
'No way, we'll share the bed... Oh, maybe you'd rather not... I won't... You know.'  
'Oh, I do know that!' cried Elijah. 'I just don't wanna feel like I'm a nuisance.'  
'Nonsense. There's plenty of room for tonight, and tomorrow I'll buy a mattress. Is that all right with you?'

Elijah's eyes went bigger than ever, if such a thing was possible:

'Buy a mattress? Sean, ye can't! Where will ye find the money?'  
'I saved some since I began to work. And...' he hesitated, a flush rising on his cheeks. 'And sometimes my ex-wife gives me a few pounds, to help me...'  
'Oh, Sean. Ye don't have to feel so ashamed about it,' the boy said frankly. 'it's not that bad.'

The man simply smiled. It was true, his own situation was not as bad as Elijah's. He did not rise the topic of the mattress again, but he knew it would have to be discussed eventually. For now he was exhausted and just wanted to collapse on that bed ; he had to rise early, and at that time of the night early meant in a couple of hours.  
Elijah understood it and, without another protest, he slipped in beside Sean and they both fell asleep.

Elijah had made himself at home in Sean's flat. First he had been shy about it, but then it had become easier, and they were both comfortable with the simple rhythm of their days: Sean rose early in the morning and went to work, letting Elijah sleep in most of the time ; the boy would rise a few hours later, go to the market – though Sean did not like him to go out alone much, but he could not really expect him to stay locked inside all day long – and he would buy food and find a few pennies by helping some of the salesmen with the packing of their goods, and when Sean came home, he would give Elijah his writing lessons.  
The nights he dined with his ex-wife, Sean would make sure Elijah had food, things to occupy himself with, and he would ask him (or more likely beg him) not to go out.  
The boy had forbade him to buy a mattress. He would not stay long, he said. But Sean kept on saving money for it, thinking that Elijah would change his mind after a few weeks of sleeping in the narrow bed with him.

***

'Did they hurt you?' Sean asked that night.  
'What?'  
'The men... you know, did they hurt you?'  
'Oh... no. I mean, yes. But not on purpose. They were just... rough. Why d' ye wanna know?'

Sean turned to face him, making the springs of the mattress creak.

'I don't know. I'm sorry, it's not something to ask, I suppose.'  
'No problem. I don't really care.'

There was a silence. Elijah turned to him too, and taking Sean's hand, he kissed it softly.

'Ye're so nice to me, Seanie. I was so lucky that day ye came walking into the doss-house with yer suitcase and yer fancy suit,' he added with a soft laugh.  
'You helped me that day.'  
''t was not much. Wot ye're doin' fer me... it's too much.'  
'Nonsense, you just... you give me a reason to rise in the morning. I have my girls, of course, but it's not the same. It might sound silly, but I need to have someone to take care of to feel... whole, and useful.'  
'That's not silly,' Elijah whispered, kissing Sean's hand again, 'that's beautiful, ye're a good person.'

Sean let the young man kiss his hand again and again, every time a little longer, all the while unconsciously getting closer to each other. Elijah took the first step.  
A kiss. A simple kiss on the lips.  
There was nothing he could do, Sean could not take the lead, but he could not stop Elijah either. And he did not want him to. The only thing the could do was abandon both their fates and bodies to Elijah.   
The young man kissed Sean, deeper, longer, and he gasped. In a few swift moves, Elijah was on top of him, getting rid of Sean's nightclothes and of his own.  
The kisses grew more urgent, and Sean finally responded to them, letting his own lips and tongue dance with Elijah's.  
No questions were asked, not a single word uttered. There was no more Sean, no more Elijah, just the movements of two bodies, and short intakes of breath so soft that they could not cover the creaking noises of the springs that were breaking the silence of the night.  
The boy rose high on his knees and slowly went down, taking Sean inside the tight heat of his body. A few thrusts that Sean could not hold back, his body having found a will of its own, and they were both sent over the edge, Elijah collapsing on the other's chest with a whimper.  
With much effort, he extricated himself from Sean's limbs, and, lying back down beside him, they both fell asleep.

The following morning, when Sean rose, he found no trace of Elijah: his belongings were gone, as if he had never shared the small living space of the flat with Sean. He had left, and as the man was desperately trying to find something the boy might have forgotten behind, he discovered that along with Elijah had left his savings.


	4. Chapter 4

The Tube was packed with people; the Londoners had found the safest shelter they could, running away from the bombs that destroyed their city and their homes.  
The richest had fled to the country, and Sean found comfort thinking that his daughters where safe.  
He sat down on the cold ground of the Tube and sighed.  
It had been eight years since that day he had walked into the doss-house, eight years that his life had changed so brutally. He had got accustomed to his small flat, his quiet job, the absence of his daughters. They had grew up into charming young women, and he had been happy with it. But a dull pain was in his heart, too. He could never stop thinking of that night, the very last night he had seen the street-boy that had taken away more than his money.   
He had spent the first few weeks blaming his own foolishness, thinking that he should have guessed the lad would take advantage of his generosity. And yet, all the while he kept worrying: where was Elijah? Was he safe? Was he hurt? Maybe it had all been a plot against him right from the beginning, but how? No, certainly Elijah had had no choice but to take Sean's money and leave. Maybe he had been in danger, and Sean had been unable to protect him!  
Slowly, as the years went by, Sean had accepted what had happened to him, Elijah's presence in his life had been but an episode, something he should forget. The night of his weakness – as he called it for himself – had been but an incident, a delicious incident which he should banish from his memory.

There was loud a crash and the ceiling trembled. A few minutes later, a group of men came in from the stairs that led to the outside world, finding shelter in the tunnel of the underground.  
They were a strange lot: there were men of all age and appearance, tall or short, fat or slim, dressed in fancy black suits or colourful frocks.  
In the crowd of the refugees, people started to whisper, disapproval in their voices.  
One of the new-comers, a tall grey-haired man with aristocratic airs, was talking with animation to a shorter one. They were both wearing fashionable suits and the younger man's hair was carefully plastered-down.   
They were the men form the “club”, everyone knew what they were, but no one said anything. For now they were refugees, just like the others. Sean felt ill-at-ease. He knew too well what was reproached to them, the things they did, things that went against the principles of society, the principles of the Bible, even! He looked down, crossing his hands in his lap. On the surface, the bombs kept on falling down.

Sir Mac, as he was called among his friends, had led the boys into the Tube. They had not fled as soon as the first whizzing sound had made itself heard. But as the danger seemed to get closer, Old Ian (for it was his name also) had decided the club was not safe any more.  
The young man liked him a lot. Sir Mac was very clever and had a great sense of humour, and most of all, he had always treated him with respect and had helped him through the worst situation he had put himself in.  
Old Ian knew all of the young man's story, and though he did not approve of all the decisions he had made, he had always tried to be comprehensive.  
'So,' Sir Mac said to him, 'we'd better find our place among these people. I guess you can help us with that, Elijah.'  
'O' course. Here, they're serving food this way, ain't ye hungry?'  
'Not yet, my dear boy. You'll have to learn patience, I think.'  
The boy fell silent and smiled.

Sean's head snapped up. He knew that voice, he was certain of it. Then he heard the name. Elijah.  
It could not be. Not here. Not after all those years! He felt like running away and out under the bombs. But his heart was in his throat and he remained rooted to the spot. It had been a whole week since his building had been destroyed and he had thought of nothing but of his own survival. But it seemed that Fate was not done with him.  
Even worse, the former street-boy was walking to him. He was still so beautiful, Sean could not help but think, and he was suddenly glad for the beard that had grown on his face, offering a meagre mask to conceal his identity.

'Hey,' Elijah said, as if addressing a beggar, 'd'ye mind if my friends and I sit by ye?'  
'No,' he replied, looking down.  
''kay, thanks,' and then addressing his friends: 'c'mon boys, there's room here.'

The men of the club all sat down around Sean and he felt like suffocating. They had brought blankets with them, and other objects that were more or less useful at such times. Some of them started to sing, and Sean thought that they would leave him alone.  
But Elijah being Elijah, he began to ask questions: how long had he been there? Was it hard to live underground for so long?   
Sean answered, using as little words as he could, trying not to articulate too much.

'And what d' they call ye?' asked the young man at last.

The other, whose throat felt so tight, and whose heart was beating so fast that he felt it would burst, could not stand it any more.  
Slowly, he looked up into the blue, blue eyes of the one who had hurt him so much and, finding his voice again, he said:

'Maybe you can figure it out yourself.'

Elijah blinked, once, twice. His mouth fell open as he recognized him.

'S... Sean?'

The other said nothing and, slowly, Elijah stood up and went to the opposite side of their group, sitting down beside Sir Mac. Sean saw him whispering a word or two to the old man. This was too much, way, way too much. He picked up the small pack that contained the only belongings he had managed to save and, walking swiftly, he went to the stairs. He heard people call him back, saying it was too dangerous, but he climbed steadily the steps that led him to the surface.


	5. Chapter 5

There were buzzing noises in his head, some of them coming from the world around him, the chaos of the city under the bombing, and others coming from his own thoughts, the own pounding of his blood that sent waves of panic to his brain.  
He was walking fast, not knowing where he went, simply trying to run away from the memories, the painful memories that had suddenly come to life again. Elijah. The city was huge, and yet he had to land just into that portion of the underground railway.   
Sean walked faster, almost running through the grey and smoky streets. He stumbled on a rock, or rather a piece of wall that had collapsed. Trembling, he sat down, his head in his hands, ignoring the danger above his head.

'Sean!' cried a voice. 'Sean!'

A black figure came up to him, running and panting. It was Elijah, of course. Sean did not move. He did not know what to do. The situation was altogether too complicated for him. He did not understand what Elijah had done, why he had done it, why he had turned him into such a fool. He wanted to insult him, throw things at his face, punch him even, but it seemed useless and stupid. So Sean sat there, listening to Elijah's words without really understanding. It was not in his nature to take things so dramatically, but after the young man's treason and then the loss of his home, Sean was overwhelmed.

'I know ye're angry Sean, and I'm so sorry. I know I shouldn't have done what I did. But I had no choice.'  
'We always have the choice,' whispered Sean for himself.  
'They threatened me, I didn't want 'em t' use me again, so... I gave 'em the money.'

Sean did not answer. He did not really care. He just wanted Elijah to go away, to leave him alone once and for all and never disturb his life ever again.

'I... I know that ye must feel... embarrassed about... about the night b'fore. Ye don't have to.'  
'Embarrassed?' Sean repeated, lifting his eyes to Elijah. 'No, I'm not embarrassed. It's well beyond that!'  
'Look, Sean. I had to go, I couldn't come back t' ye... I was so dependant on ye, it stifled me! But it was so long ago, please, let's go back inside the Tube, it'll be safer.'

Sean still did not move, and he said:

'You go back inside.'

Elijah sat down beside him. The contrast between the two was striking: Sean – who had spent several days underground – looked like a street-beggar, with his beard and his grub clothes ; Elijah, in his black suit, looked almost like a young aristocrat. He had not lost his street-accent, though, and Sean wished he had, for he could have thought this Elijah was not he one he had met eight years ago.

'I won't let ye out here all alone.'  
'Your friends are going to worry,' Sean said.  
'They won't. Well, if ye don't wanna go back, let's find a safe place, at least.'  
'I had forgotten how stubborn you could be,' Sean sighed. 'Listen, I forgive you. Happy? Now leave me alone.'  
'Who's stubborn, now? Sean, I couldn't... I swear, I'll pay you back, with interests! Now let's go.'  
'I don't care about your fucking money!' Sean cried, rising up. 'If you had asked, I would have given it to you! You only had to ask! But you stole it and left me with my doubts and worries! Yes, I've been worried for you! And all that time you were having fun with a bunch of fags in some fancy clubs, and probably whoring about when you needed it!'

Elijah's eyes grew wide, he looked at Sean without knowing whether he should be shocked, sad, or angry. He decided the latter was probably the best for now.

'How can ye say that? Call me a whore and a fag for all ye want, but ye dunno the half o' it, Sean! Ye dunno what happened!'  
'Tell me then! What happened, for fuck's sake?'

Elijah did not know Sean could be so frightening. He had never seen him getting angry before.

'I'll tell ye, if ye go find shelter with me.'

As he was saying this, drops of rain began to fall down, and Sean followed Elijah silently inside the ruins of a building. There, they sat on the remains of a bed and Elijah, looking at the cracks in the walls around him, began to tell his story:

'Ye already know wot the policemen needed me fer. They was very angry 'cause I didn't do it no more. But one night, when ye was out to yer girls, I went on a walk and I met one of 'em. He threatened me: 't was money or I'd have to... ye know. Do it again. I didn't want to, o' course. As much fer my own sake as fer the trust ye had in me. I couldn't have faced ye again, whatever my decision woz. So I whored, one last time, wit' ye. I thought “Sean must not try to find me again, so I must make him hate me.” I thought ye would throw me out if I tried to lie wit' ye. When ye didn't, well... it just made things harder.'

He sighed, then went on:

''t woz the best thing I ever felt, that night. And then I had t' leave, even if I didn't want to. I had already taken the money by the time we went t' bed that night, in case ye threw me out. I know it sounds awful, and ye really don't have to forgive me.'  
'And then? You gave the money to the cops and you fled?'  
'Yeah, and I literally bumped into that man, Sir Mac, and he decided to take care o' me.'  
'I thought you didn't want to be taken care of, that you stifled with me and needed your independence?'  
'I did, 'cause wit' ye t' was different. I... didn't want ye to take care o' me 'cause I desired ye in so many other ways that it felt wrong somehow. That's also why I had t' leave, I couldn't admit it, wot I felt fer ye.'  
'And you never tried to come back and apologize?' Sean asked, deliberately ignoring Elijah's last words.  
'I tried many times, but I couldn't. I'm so sorry Sean. I'll do anything I can to fix things, I swear.'

As Elijah spoke, he looked Sean in the eye, and what he saw there sent shivers down his spine. He first thought the man was still angry with him, and he probably was, but the flaming desire that flashed in the brown eyes told an entirely different story.

***

'Tell me,' Sean said trying to ignore his beating heart that told him to just forgive the lad and take him right there in their precarious shelter. 'who are those people you were with? Did you... did that old man asked... things from you?'

Elijah sighed. Eight years had passed and Sean was still the same protective man that had trusted him to his own unhappiness.

'They're a “bunch of fags”, like ye said, Sean. Sir Mac's gat a club, ye know... People like me... we drink and dance, and all... I know the idea must sound revolting t' ye, but that's what we do, all right, like ye said, we have fun. And no, Old Ian never asked anything from me.'

Sean swallowed, Elijah was about to say something more, but he interrupted himself. The other noticed it and asked him to go on.

'Ye don't wanna know that, Sean.'  
'If you want me to forgive you, you have to tell me the whole truth.'  
'Like I was saying... Ian never asked me anything. He didn't have to,' Elijah added, casting his eyes down. 'That's it. The whole truth.'

Sean did not reply. He could not really blame the young man for having found a lover, even a very old lover – or so Sean thought.  
Himself had never tried to make his life change. He had spent the first few months of Elijah's disappearance expecting him to come back with an apology and maybe a few bruises that he would mend with care. So he had not changed his habits, and when he stopped hoping for the street-boy to come back, he had kept on with his daily routine. It had been a sort of comfort Sean had clung to, acting like everything was normal, like nothing had happened, like he had never committed any kind of sin, like he had never been betrayed.

'What about ye? Ye did not married again?' Elijah asked, and in his eyes, the guilt he felt made him look just like the lost boy he had been, eight years before.  
'With whom? No, I didn't. But I faired quite well, if you want to know.'  
'Are ye... shocked? For Ian I mean. Ye know, it was just... it's over now. We're friends and...'  
'I don't care, Elijah. You can do whatever you want,' he sighed. 'You should go back to your friends. It's safer down there.'  
'Wot about ye? Ain't ye goin' to go there too?'

Sean hesitated.

'I need to understand, Elijah. I need to understand why you did that.'  
'I already told you. Please, Sean,' Elijah said, getting up from the bed, 'I'm afraid and I'm cold. I wanna go back. And I want ye t' come wit' me.'  
'Tell me, first. What did it mean to you?'  
'What are ye talkin' about?'  
'You know it perfectly well! I'd never done that before, not like that! How do you think I reacted when I realized it was all fake? When I understood you had made fun of me?'  
'I did not!' cried Elijah. 'I just... I thought ye would forget 'bout it. I couldn't imagine that ye'd be so upset! I woz young, I didn't know any better!'  
'Yeah,' Sean answered calmly, 'you were young. Now you're old, wise and mature, of course.'

Elijah was about to reply when someone came into the ruined building. It was a tall, dark man, and as Sean rose to his feet, Elijah came to stand by his side, as if he was afraid of the new-comer.  
The man came closer and Sean could observe him better: he had a handsome face, with clever blue eyes and a solid jawline. He was wearing a dark uniform.

'Hello?' the man said, his voice deep and gentle. 'You shouldn't stay here, the area has to be evacuated. Follow me sirs.'  
'Where to?' Elijah asked, his voice suddenly uncertain.  
'Down to the Tube, it'll be safe.'

Sean did not understand right away, but a sudden flash of light gave him a better view of the man and he realized it was a policeman. He squeezed Elijah's shoulder reassuringly.  
They came out of the building, and, as he cast a last look at it, Elijah exclaimed, gripping Sean's arm:

'Oh, Sean! Look! We were in our doss-house!'

Sean looked back and recognized it under the new light of the ravaged city. Indeed, it was “their” doss-house, as Elijah called it. The place where everything had begun.  
They followed the policeman to the entrance of the Tube, and as Sean looked back one last time, the remains of the roof that had shed their first meeting crumbled down. And, as if a magic spell had been broken at last, Sean let out a relieved sigh. Elijah noticed it and looked down at his feet, sobs rising in his throat.


	6. Chapter 6

The policeman urged them inside, and, as they were going down the stairs, he said:

'I'm glad to see you again, Sean.'

The man started, then looked closely at the policeman, and his face lit up as he recognized him:

'Vig'! Oh my! What the... You're a cop now?'  
'Erm... not exactly.'

The men smiled at each other and hugged, and Elijah was puzzled, and maybe a little jealous too. They made their way through the crowded underground and sat down, just a few feet away from the men of the club. Elijah hesitated to join them again, but curiosity got the better of him and he stayed to listen to Vig's story.

From what he heard, Sean and that man had met a few months after Elijah's sudden departure. Viggo was a butler at that time, and he was working at Sean's ex-in-laws. They had met there. Sean had spent a few days with his daughters: their grandparents had accepted with some reticence that Sean might come and stay in their house longer than he usually did.  
When he had met the butler, he had been surprised to see someone so young: to him, a butler had to be an old grey-haired man that never smiled too much. Of course, Sean's in-laws did not like him and were always speaking of sacking him, and that only made Sean like him more.  
When they effectively sent him away, Sean helped him find another job, and they would often meet and talk, especially of Sean's daughters. That was a subject none of them ever got tired of.

'So, after I've been sacked from the restaurant...'  
'They sacked you? Viggo, what did you do?'  
'Nothing, I swear,' smiled the man. 'T' was very kind o' you by the way, but, you know, dishwasher... t' wasn't a job fer me. So after that I became a fisherman.'

Sean burst into laughter. Elijah did not see what was so funny about becoming a fisherman, but he said nothing.

'And did it work?'  
'Nay, but I had fun! Every time we'd catch one those huge fishes I'd hear your Lizzy saying:'  
'“Where do they find the big, big worms to catch the big, big fishes?”' Sean joined in.

They both laughed and Elijah really felt like a stranger to them.

'And where are yer manners, Sean?' Viggo said at last, 'you haven't introduced your little friend to me,' he added, looking at Elijah.  
'Oh, sorry... Viggo, this is Elijah. He's... a friend of mine.'  
'Okay, nice to meet you, kiddo.'

Viggo took Elijah's small white hand in his large brown one and shook it. The young man felt a flush rise to his cheeks, both because of the insult of being called “kiddo” and the charisma that Viggo radiated.

'Nice t' meet ye too,' he said simply. Then, rising to his feet, he added:  
'I think I'd better go back t' my friends now.'  
'Yes,' Sean said somewhat coldly. 'See you, then.'

And without another word, Elijah went to sit back beside Old Ian. Viggo's gaze followed him, and, leaning closer to Sean, he whispered:

'That guy... it's him, right? The one that you helped an' all?'  
'Yeah.'  
'And he's friends with the old man, over there?'  
'Yes. Do you know him?'  
'Never mind that, will ye tell me about him? Elijah I mean.'  
'I will, when we're alone. It's... complicated.'

Viggo nodded and, in a lighter tone, said :

'You still dunno how I got to get that uniform.'

And so he told him. Viggo was a man who liked to change his way of life. A lot. He could be a butler in an upper-class family one day, then go and beg on the streets, then work in a shop, all for the shear pleasure of changing and experiencing new things.  
But he had not become a policeman. The truth is that Viggo, though he had the most noble principles, was not always conforming to the law. The uniform had been “borrowed” to an officer that was in the hospital with a broken leg.

'I was working as a stretcher-bearer, ye see. And they had put his clothes away in a closet, like they did for every patient, ye know. I thought it'd be fun.'  
'What do you use it for?'  
'I get things, meals for free, stuff like that. I noticed yer little friend doesn't like cops too much, he kinda backed off when he saw me. Or am I that scary?'  
'No, you're not,' smiled Sean.  
'Well, anyway, I saw you guys, and I thought you were in trouble. I didn't recognize you right away, 'cause o' yer beard.'  
'And I you, because of that... costume. It suits you well, you know.'

They laughed again.

From where he sat, Elijah could see them talking and obviously having a lot of fun together. He frowned. He was glad Sean had had friends during all these years, but somehow he felt jealous. Of course, he knew that he should consider himself lucky that Sean did not try to kill him after what he had done.   
But that Viggo knew so much about Sean's life, so many things Elijah would probably never come to know, now. The rejection was too painful to him. He knew Sean would need time to forgive him, and maybe he would never forgive him at all, but he had never realized it would be so hard.

'Is there something wrong, sweet face?' came the comforting voice of Sir Mac.  
'Oh, no. I'm fine.'  
'Yes, of course,' the old man said sarcastically. 'Elijah, you have to give him time. He's not like us... Maybe not like us at all. But if you want to have him, even if just as a friend again, you have to tell him the whole truth.'  
'I did!'  
'Are you sure of that?'

Elijah looked down.

'I can't, Mac. He'll never understand.'  
'That is what you think. But if you want him so hard to forgive you, I'm sure he must be worth the chance.'

***

The night passed without much incidents, the refugees were awoken from time to time by a loud crashing noise and the trembling of the roof. In the morning, people went to take their portion of breakfast in a quiet line, and then sat back to eat, and to wait for the end of the cataclysm.  
At some point, three men, who were obviously tired to do nothing but sit on the hard ground, got up and – borrowing a young boy's ball – started to pass it between them.

' Hey guys,' Viggo said, 'why don't we start a kinda football tournament, ye know... T'would be fun.'  
'Why not...' answered a smiling auburn-haired man.

After a few words, Viggo discovered the three men's names: David, Karl, and Bean (that was not his real name, but the others kept using that nickname). Viggo had a natural talent when it came to meeting people and making friends, Sean had already noticed that.  
In a quarter of hour, people were making up teams to take part in the tournament: the spectators sat on the railway and room was made for the players.

Old Ian wanted his friends to participate (considering himself too old to play), but some of them were hard to convince.

'But I don't know how to play!' one of them said in a particularly high voice.  
'Tis easy,' Elijah answered him, 'Come on guys, it'll be fun!'

Finally, five teams were made: Viggo, Sean, David, Karl, Bean, and two other men were part of one team, and Elijah and six of Sir Mac's boys were part of another. The tournament started fairly well, and for a time everyone seemed to forget about the bombing outside.  
But the conflict soon came back inside the walls of the underground, when it was time for Elijah's team to play.

'No way,' said one of the men of the other team. 'I am not playing against that bunch of... sissies!'  
'Come on,' Viggo said in his deep, soothing voice, 'there's no point in being rude. Everyone has a right to play and...'

But Elijah had taken the insult for himself it seemed, for he was already walking up to the man and saying in a cold, angry voice:

'What did ye call us, sir?'  
'Wanna hear it again?' the man said with a mean smile.  
'Go on, yes.'  
'All right... Sissy.'  
'Please, let's play now, would you?' Old Ian interrupted in his best gentleman's tone.  
'And now here's the Pansy-in-Chief! I can't take that no more! They have nothing to do among us, normal people.'

Sean was about to make a remark, but Elijah – looking as angry as ever – said:

'Shut up! We have as much right as anybody here, okay? So ye close yer big mouth and ye let us kick yer ass. Now.'  
'Okay,' Viggo said, clasping his hands together. 'Ready t' go, then? Everyone takes their position, ready... steady... GO!'

And the match began. Elijah and the foul-mouthed guy were captains of their respective teams, and they were facing each other. At Viggo's signal, Elijah took instantly the lead, his foot light and quick on the cold tiles.  
Soon, Sean found himself encouraging him, yelling enthusiastically at his team. They were far from good, some were really clumsy, but you could see that they were trying very hard to do their best, and the match became really interesting. The ball was going to and fro between both goals and men were running in all directions, trying to catch it.  
Elijah managed to score a goal, and – along with Sir Mac and the boys from the club – Sean found himself whooping with joy. The other team had scored a few more goals already, but this one gave Elijah's team courage to go on.  
Finally, Viggo announced that the match was over: Sir Mac's boys had lost, but with dignity, and the captains even shook hand in the end.

'Hey,' Sean said, approaching Elijah, 'you were great. You can be proud of yourself, honestly.'

Elijah did not answer, he simply smiled.

The tournament went on, Sean's team played, Elijah's played again, and they played against each other too, but none of them were good enough to win the tournament. But in the end it did not matter: everyone had a great fun, and the troubles of the outside world were forgotten for an hour or two.

After that sportive interlude, everyone went back to their previous occupations, but they all had lighter spirits and talked animatedly of the football matches.  
Sean himself was feeling a lot better and, taking advantage of the general confusion, he took Elijah's arm and led him to a corner of the underground that was not properly lit and in which people were not gathered.

'Sean, wot d' ye...'  
'Hush, just a minute, please.'

Sean looked around and, furtively, kissed the young man on the cheek.

'Wot woz that fer?'  
'Nothing, I'm just glad to see you again, at last.'  
'At last, indeed! Well, thank ye,' Elijah said with a faint blush that Sean could see in the dim light.

They stared at each other for a while, not knowing what to say.

'So, maybe it's time you told me the truth about you. Don't you think?'  
'How d' ye know? That I've been lying I mean.'  
'I just felt it. There's something you're not telling since the beginning. I'm just waiting for you to trust me. Do you trust me now?'  
'I do, I always have. I just dunno how to say it and... I'm afraid ye'll despise me. Fer lyin', and fer... cheating.'

Sean let Elijah take a deep breath and then, taking his small hand in his, he said:

'Come on, whatever it is you've done, I'm sure you did it because you thought it right. And as for what happened with me... We'll call it a mistake for now, and see what we can make of it later. Is that all right with you?'  
'Okay,' Elijah said shakily. Then, looking down he began. 'I've lied to ye, Sean, and I'm downright sorry. I... I had a lover. I mean, I was... wit' him already, when we first met.'

They were both silent then. Sean was looking at Elijah, trying to fathom the information. At last, he said:

'You... stole the money for him then?'

That sounded wrong, for it was the last thing he needed to know. But the words just came out of his mouth. Then, Elijah answered, his voice full of tears:

'Sean, I'm so sorry... But that's not what it looks like.'


	7. Chapter 7

Sean took a deep breath. He could not believe it. He just could not! Elijah had not only betrayed him, but he had cheated on his lover, too! Had the young man wronged him so much? Had he seduced him to that only purpose? Steel from him for another one? Maybe Elijah did that often, maybe he was a sort of professional burglar... But no, Elijah had troubles too, with the policemen and their awful business, and Sean had also seen the bruises on his body. Were they due to his lover, too?  
Sean tried to calm his thoughts and let Elijah go on with his story.

'I don't know what it looks like, but I think you're going to tell me,' he said, trying not to sound too angry.  
'I... I never, ever meant to cheat on him with ye, nor t' hurt ye or anythin', I swear! I was just... I had that deal with the policemen, and all those little things I did on the market and all... T'was just to get money. But when I met ye, my business got slower, 'cause I spent so much time wit' ye, and I really enjoyed it, and I know I shouldn't have, but...'  
'Well, then, what about your... friend? Has he caused you trouble and...'  
'No. He needed the money, but I got less and less, that's why I stole it, but it was too late.'

Elijah was crying now, tears flowing down in pale cheeks, but Sean did not feel very compassionate. Even if that man was brutalizing him, he had the feeling that maybe Elijah had deserved it this time. It felt wrong to Sean to think that, but he could not help himself. He knew it was mean, and unfair, for the young man had suffered a lot already. He just wanted Elijah to come out with the truth, he wanted to be able to forgive him, but it seemed simply impossible.

'Too late for what?' he asked impatiently.  
'Oh Sean! I'm so sorry. He was... He needed the money, his parents had just died ye see, he was not much older then me, and he had the same disease they had... And after that night wit' ye... oh, I know it shouldn't have happened, but it felt so right. So right...'

Understanding downed onto Sean, and his eyes softened. So that was it? Elijah had whored himself to save his lover? Could that be possible?  
Of course it could, Sean had felt it, that generosity, the first time they had met. He let out a deep sigh, glad that he had not been so wrongly mistaken, and honestly sorry for all the boy's ordeals.

'No it was not right, Lij',' Sean said, his tone gentle this time. 'You've cheated on him, and he was dying, is that right to you?'

Elijah burst into tears.

'I shouldn't have, I didn't want to hurt him, nor t' hurt ye! After I took the money, I went to his place... but...'  
'It was too late,' finished Sean. 'Elijah, come here.'

And the man gathered the boy in his arms into a bear-hug. He stroked his back gently, speaking soothing words to him.

'It's all right, Lij', it's all right. You tried to do your best. But you know, what I said earlier, you should have asked me...'  
'I know, I know,' cried the young man.  
'It must have been hard for someone so young to deal with all this. You've been very brave, going through so much for him... But now I just feel like... like I've been nothing but another customer you got money from.'  
'No! Never, Sean! Oh, I wish I could make things right, is there anything I can do?'  
'I don't know. I understand you didn't want to tell me the truth right away, it's all right.'

They took a step back from each other, Sean holding the young man at arm's length and looking into his deep, blue eyes.

'Now,' Elijah said shyly, 'I'd like ye t'know that, no matter how hard I hated myself fer cheatin' on him wit' ye, I could never call it a mistake. Ye've been so nice, and caring, and... ye were, and still are, the one I need. I think... I think I lo...'  
'No, don't. Please. It's been eight years Elijah, it can't be true.'  
'But that's how I feel! I can't help it, Sean. I thought Sir Mac would take care of me as ye did, but it was not the same, it was never the same...'

They held each other again. Sean did not ask further questions, he did not ask Elijah's lover's name, he knew it was too hard for him, and deep within himself he did not want to know it. He trusted the young man's words, he really did this time. He understood why he had not told about his lover before, nor the previous day. To be forced to go with men was one thing, but to have open, romantic relationships with them was another thing entirely. And even though they had had that kind of relationship together, though not exactly openly, it was hard for Elijah to admit he was that kind of man. Of course, after their night together, and when Sean had seen him with Sir Mac and the others, he had guessed that the boy was one of those men who went with other men because they liked it, because they were like that. Of course, considering the fact that he had himself really enjoyed being with Elijah, he began to ask himself some questions about his own sexual desires.  
He had loved his wife, he had loved her dearly and desired her, too. It was just a natural thing, the normal course of life, you might say. But that night with Elijah... He had had time to think it over and over, to turn it around in his head, and every time he had come to the same conclusion: it had been an unbelievable explosion of his senses, no matter how quick and awkward it had been.

As he was holding the young man, the need to feel those things again came rushing back to him. He had tried to suppress it, but it had always been there, waiting to surface again. He looked into Elijah's eyes, those eyes he had been fool enough to think he could forget. The young man looked at him with genuine trust and, softly, very softly, he leaned in and kissed the sweet lips. He heard Elijah gasp and give in to the kiss, wrapping his arms around Sean's neck. It had been so long, so, so long since he had last kissed Elijah, since he had last kissed anyone at all. He had thought he did not need that kind of relationships, he had thought he could not trust anyone any more, but that single kiss proved him wrong. His hands began to roam along Elijah's shoulders and back, possessing him gently.

'Sean,' Elijah said when they parted to catch their breaths. 'Ye... ye shouldn't be doin' this. Ye don't really mean it, right?'  
'I... I mean to kiss you, and I mean to take care of you. Is that enough for you?'  
'Oh Sean, more than enough!'

And with a little cry of joy, the young man flung himself into Sean's arms.


	8. Chapter 8

The war was over, the city was slowly being reconstructed, everyone trying to help.  
Many men had gone to the front, on the French coasts, to help the Allies against the Nazis, some had never come back, but their sacrifice had been worth it, people said, for they had permitted Victory. It was the end of very hard times for Europe, and the beginning of an entirely new world.

Elijah sighed. He got up from bed and washed his face before having a quick breakfast. Their was a lot to do that day. But Elijah did not feel like it. He cast a glance at a picture hanging on the wall: a group of soldiers, looking serious, ready to go on board. On the left, there was Sean, crouching beside the others, his helmet on his head, untied at the chin.  
Tears sprang into Elijah's eyes.   
After the Blitz, as they called it now, Sean and him had found shelter with Old Ian and the others in the club. They had lived there for a few months, while helping London to find its former glory again. There, they had shared a small bedroom together, and they had made love. It had happened just once, but it had been an unbelievable night. Sean had taken the lead this time, each thrust of his hips sending waves of pleasure through Elijah's body. It had been intense, and magical.  
But a few weeks later Englishmen had been called to the front, and Sean had had to go. Elijah had begged him not to, saying that he should stay with him who could not go. But Sean had felt that it was his duty to fight, and he had left. He had written to him once, sending him the photograph, but it was just before he had actually gone on board. Since then, Elijah had not heard from him, and he was sick with worry and grief.

Now he occupied a small flat under the roofs of a building, just like Sean did before the Blitz, and he worked as an assistant in a small book-shop. Elijah felt like Sean was with him when he did the things the man used to during the short period they had lived together. Sir Mac had finished to teach him to read and he had been able to get the job.

He was storing books in the back of the shop. He knew that Viggo – who was now a real police officer, one that Elijah did not have to fear – was to come to fetch a volume that Elijah had found especially for him.   
He was so engrossed in his work that he barely heard the sound of the large boots on the wooden floor of the shop. But Elijah finally heard the footsteps and, without turning to face the new-comer, he said:

'Oh hello, Vig', don't move, I gat yer book, it's...'

There were arms around his waist, and lips upon the back of his neck. Elijah's breath caught into his throat. Slowly, he turned round to face him, in his dark uniform and black boots.

'Sean...'

The man smiled warmly and Elijah burst into tears. They held each other silently, delighted to be able to do it again, at last.

***

'Oh, I missed ye so much!' Elijah said sitting down at the small table of his flat, Sean taking the chair beside him and holding the young man's hand.  
'Yeah, I missed you too... So very much.'  
'Oh yeah? The French are not as welcoming as I heard they were, then?'

Sean laughed and squeezed the small white hand.

'No, not as welcoming as you, Elijah.'

He stared at Sean, taking in the man he had become. His face seemed harder, but there was still in those sweet hazel eyes the softness and kindness that was simply Sean.  
They talked for hours, the soldier relating the Normandy landings with dreadful precision, making the young man shiver to the thought of what his lover – for he could call him his lover for real, now – had been through and survived to. By the end of the day, after a light meal, they undressed and slipped silently into the narrow bed, not daring to touch yet, as if they were afraid it was just a dream they would wake up from.

'How did ye find me?' Elijah asked, blindly looking into the dark of the night. 'London is a huuuuuge city,' he added, rolling onto his side and tentatively stroking Sean's pectoral, nestling his head on the man's shoulder. 'I could've been anywhere!'  
'I just asked Old Ian,' he answered simply.   
'Oh, and ye think yerself very clever I suppose, huh?'  
'Indeed.'

They smiled. There was a languid, sensual happiness between them, something sweet and that meant foreverness. They had all the time they needed, and they intended to make the best of it.  
Elijah crept up to Sean's chest and, straddling him, he kissed him softly. 

'Hmm, I missed that, too. It's been too long,' Sean sighed.  
'I think we should do that more often.'  
'What do you mean by that?' Sean teased.  
'Ahah, ye'll see, soldier-boy.'

And they kissed again, deeper this time, longer, harder, until their hips began to take on that sweet rhythm they both loved. Elijah rolled onto his back, bringing Sean above him, comfortably settled between the young man's thighs. He ground their hips together, kissing Elijah's throat and stroking his sides languorously.

'Oh Sean,' Elijah sighed.

And he sighed again and again, between kisses, thrusting up, their arousals pressed between their sweating bellies. But Sean wanted them to go slowly, it had been too long, way too long since they had last shared such pleasures.

'So, you've been nice while I was away, have you?'  
'Hmm, what d' ye mean?'  
'You know... You've been... seeing someone?'

Elijah's hips stopped their rocking movements. The blue-eyed man – for he had become a man at last, Sean thought – looked suddenly serious.

'Ye don't mean that, do ye?'  
'I'm sorry, I didn't want to upset you. That was out of place. I know you would not... you would never. But you must have thought I was dead, so... I would understand if...'  
'All right, Sean. But I did not see anyone, no that way, so don't please, don't spoil this.'  
'Okay, I'm sorry, love.'

And again they kissed, and kissed, and kissed again. Then, as they were parting for breath, Sean braced himself on the mattress, trying to distinguish Elijah's body through the darkness. He could see a pale form lying just beneath him, lithe limbs making a warm nestle for his own body. His eyes travelled down, down to the soft, darker patch of hair and to the stiff member that stood for attention.  
Sean's lips followed the path his eyes had just taken, trailing kisses on the tender skin, his tongue lingering in the shallow depth of the navel. Then, Sean rose suddenly from the bed and lit the small lamp that stood on the nearest shelf.

'What are ye...'  
'I would like to see you properly this time, I was never able to.'

Elijah was lying on the bed, his whole body offered freely to Sean, arms half raised on his sides, his hands lying limply beside his head, just waiting for his lover to come back to bed.  
As Sean walked slowly to him, Elijah took in the body that he knew would soon possess him completely. He looked firmer, but there were scars that he knew had not been marring his skin before. The smile on his face was so inviting, that Elijah let out a little moan of anticipation, and Sean laughed, then climbed back onto the bed.  
He kissed him, hard and long, and then took his attention back to Elijah's navel, and down again, the tip of his tongue meeting with the tip of Elijah's penis.

'Sean! Ye... ye can't!' cried the younger man.  
'Don't worry, it's okay, love, just relax.'

And relax he did, as Sean kissed his erection, stroking it with one hand, his other hand massaging Elijah's buttocks. Then he took him all in, making up and down movements, suckling at him eagerly.  
Elijah let out a series of gasps and moans, and even a few colourful curses, as he was lost in the sensations.

'Sean, don't... I, I'm gonna, I'm gonna!'  
'I know,' Sean smiled, coming up for breath, 'just let go.'  
'No, not like that! I want... you... inside!'

Sean crept up to him, kissing his lips softly, and asked:

'You don't like it?'  
'I do, I do!' he answered, panting for air, 'I just want to come with ye inside me, is all... Oh, please!'

Sean did not need further encouragement, after a few more passionate kisses, he spread Elijah's thighs and, slicking his penis with the pearling drops on the tip, he entered him carefully. Elijah moaned loudly, wincing with pain.

'Lij', you okay? I can stop if...'  
'No. No, I'm just fine. Go on, oh, please, Sean!'

And they went on, again and again. The creaking of the springs could not muffle their moans and groans, and cries of pleasure and joy.  
Sean felt he would not hold back much longer, and after a few more thrusts, they both reached climax at the same time, clinging to each other as if for dear life.

'I love you, oh Lij', I love you so much...'  
'Love you too my Sean...'

Their hips rocked a few more times and they sunk back onto the bed, huddled up together.   
Sleep was easy to come after that.


	9. Epilogue

Since Sean's return, days went on smoothly enough for the two men: Elijah kept on selling books and Sean found a job as a counter clerk in a bank. They left the small under-roof flat to live in a slightly more comfortable one. But they still went to the market to visit their friends: Dominic had been to the front too, but he had not been as lucky as Sean. He was now moving around in a wheel-chair, under the protective gaze of Billy, who was now living with him and taking care of his friend. Of course, the cheerful Dominic was showing no sign of uneasiness concerning his new situation, but you could guess things were not as simple as they looked.

Sometimes, Elijah went to visit Old Ian, and Sean to his daughters. Ally got married, and Sean went to the ceremony, bringing Elijah along. He presented his friend to his former wife and daughters, and the women seemed to like him well enough. Elijah danced with each of them, and the fear he had had to feel uncomfortable among these people from a completely different social class vanished.  
After the wedding party they went home, talking merrily of their impressions: Sean was amazed that his daughters had grown up so fast, and Elijah made a few jokes about his “old Seannie”.  
They came home and went to bed, exhausted but happy.  
Elijah slipped under the covers and crept up to Sean, wrapping his arms around the man's waist. He sighed.

'That woz a fantastic night! But I guess ye're too h'old t' 'ave more, now,' he said, knowing that his best (or worst?) cockney accent had devastating effects on Sean.  
'Hmm... not fair. First, t' make fun of my old age, then t' use that wicked voice o' yers,' he answered, trying to imitate him.  
''kay, so... Wot about I kiss vat pretty norf an' sowf o' yers?'

Sean, like every time Elijah used those expressions, was completely puzzled. He was speaking so fast that he did what he had just “threatened” to do before Sean could even react.

'An' now, 'ow 'bout I wrap ma Scotches an' chalk farms round ye?'  
'Oh, please, do as you like, I don't get a single word of what you're saying.'

Elijah laughed, he kissed Sean once more, feeling sleepiness beginning to conquer him. He knew there was no point in trying to fight it, and so he made himself more comfortable in Sean's arms before shutting his eyes. 

'Tomorrow I've got to go and see Dominic, I still owe him the money I lost last time we played cards.'  
'Yeah, that time ye lost on purpose... Sean, it'd be more simple if ye just went and gave him the bees as a gift, don't ye think?'  
'Bees? Oh, yeah... Well, you know Dom won't let us help him. I'm just sneaking around a bit. You won't tell him, will you?'  
''Course not, he does need it. Just try not to get caught, he's a clever one, Dom is.'  
'I know, turtle dove,' Sean smiled, 'I know.'

Elijah laughed again, and soon enough they were both asleep.

***

'So, this is it.'  
'Yes, the very place. It all seems so long ago,' Elijah mused.  
'Yes, so long. And now people live here, they don't have a single clue of what it does mean to us.'  
'D' ye think we could try and have a flat of our own in there? That'd be nice.'  
'We could. Yes, maybe one day...'

And, walking side by side, Sean and Elijah cast a last glance at the building that now stood in the place of their doss house, thanking it silently for what it had brought to their lives: the silent and comforting presence of the other, improbable companions who could not imagine life without the other.


End file.
